Page 90 of How to Blow It with a Billionaire

Arden St. Ives: 2.2.

The rest of the non-work emails were mostly congratulations. Polite congratulations. Professor Standish said she hoped this wouldn’t hold me back because she knew I was very capable when I put my mind to it. Weird Owen had helpfully gone to Exam Schools and taken a photo of the public list for me. I was right at the bottom. Worst mark in college. Even Druggie Matt, who had been off his face in every tutorial, had managed a 2.1.

So. Yeah.

2.2.

The result you got when you weren’t competent enough for a 2.1 or incompetent enough for a third. A 2.1, said “I did what I was supposed to do,” a third said, “I gave no fucks about doing what I was supposed to do,” and a 2.2 said nothing at all.

It was a squeak of inglorious inadequacy.

I waited for the sky to fall. I waited to burst into tears.

But the world stayed right-way-up. And I was…totally and completely fine.

Huh.

Well, time to see what Milieu had to say. Which was, if anything, even more nerve-wracking. They’d got back to me much quicker than last time, which made me suspect I was either moving up in the world or about to suffer a devastating insta!rejection.

But it was good…ish…news. I think. They liked the interview, though it would need a lot of work, and to run it at the length they felt it deserved, it would have to be a main feature. Meaning, they wanted Poppy for the cover. And so, since she was essentially my contact, I had to email her. And what with it still being the middle of the night in Boston, and the weekend, it would probably sit there in her inbox for hours, if not days.

Holy tenterhooks Batman.

“Arden?” Caspian’s voice startled me away from my phone.

“Sorry. Sorry. I’m here.”

I ran back into the bedroom. Found Caspian sitting up and bleary-eyed, pushing the hair out of his face.

“I’m starting to see,” he said, “why you object so much to waking up alone.”

“Did you miss me?” I jumped back into bed.

“I wouldn’t say missed you exactly—”

“Wow thanks.”

He gave me a look. “Well, I knew you were unlikely to have gone far.”

“You could still miss me though.”

“I certainly awoke and was aware of your absence.”

“If you ever get sick of being a billionaire, you could work for Hallmark.” I mimed titles flying through the air. “I Am Aware of Your Absence. I May Have Mildly Inconvenienced You. My Concern on This Non-Ideal Occasion.”

“Oh shush.”

I’d never seen someone try to laugh while they were scowling. Or scowl while they were laughing. Anyway, it was…pretty special. Then he twisted a hand in my hair and pulled me in for a kiss that felt like reward and punishment all at once.

“Caspian,” I mumbled against his mouth.

“Yes, my Arden?”

“I failed Oxford.”

He drew back a little. Not in a recoiling-from-my-ignorance way. More just giving me space. “You failed? Nobody fails Oxford. You mean you got a third?”

“2.2. That’s worse than a third.”

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